


Walls and Skies

by EudociaCovert



Series: The Best Path [10]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (really lightly though), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Zuko's a teeny bit manipulative, But he thinks he does lol, Families of Choice, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jet doesn't get it, Jet's really honest in this one, Midnight Heart-to-hearts, More Aggressive Friend-making, Reference to Child Deaths, Smellerbee is still Awesome, Zuko's A+ Decision Making, memories of war, oh how the turntables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 08:49:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20927459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EudociaCovert/pseuds/EudociaCovert
Summary: Zuko makes a promise, and has a promise made to him. Part 10 in 'The Best Path' series.





	Walls and Skies

Zuko had never had to work to push people away.

For his father it had only taken two acts. Zuko had spoken out of turn. Zuko had refused to fight.

For his uncle it had taken one sentence.

For him mother, something Azula had said.

It was a lesson Azula had never had to learn, how hollow safety is. Sometimes, when it was dark and his mind was stuck in nights long passed, Zuko wonders if that was her true genius. Maybe she was constantly better than him not because of her bending talent, or her head for tactics and palace intrigue. Maybe she’d simply worked harder because she realized before he had that no amount of love, family, or conviction, would keep you safe.

Zuko knows now. He understands how the world works, that there’s always some way things can get worse, that what you _meant_ rarely matters, that people leave.

Except for these people.

Now, all the burden of leaving rests on him.

It would be better to leave now while they slept. It would be the safest thing to do. The best thing to do. His earlier promise had been made hastily in a moment of emotion, and there’s nothing but pain at the end of this road.

But Zuko could never do it. He knows what its like, being left without a word. He knows how unknown drag at the mind. If he must push them away, he’ll do it in daylight, to their faces.

But the conviction he has now, he knows it won’t last until morning. He’s tempted by what they offer. So tempted.

And what’s wrong with that, he asks himself in a sudden spike of temper. So, he wants to stay. So what. Everything has been taken from him, doesn’t he deserve something he wants, just one thing? So what if he can’t keep it? He can’t keep anything. Isn’t it better just to have someplace to be, just for a while?

“Pipe dream,” he whispers, quiet but harsh. He’s such an idiot.

“Still awake?”

Zuko starts, turns his head. Smellerbee rolls over to face him. Her face is bare, washed clean, her hands curled tightly under her chin.

“You too?” Zuko asks, hushed.

“I’ve slept off and on,” she whispers back. “It’s a bit dark in here. And small.”

“You don’t like it,” Zuko murmurs. “I remember.”

“Do you want to go outside for a bit?” she asks. “Fresh air.”

Zuko can’t think of a good reason to say no.

\--

The city isn’t silent, but it’s the closest it ever gets. Smellerbee sits on the ground right outside the door and pats the spot beside her. Zuko quickly checks the street; it’s as empty as it seems at first sight. He sits down. It feels familiar, crouching in the dark with Smellerbee.

“Why don’t you like the dark?” Zuko blurts out.

She turns to him, eyebrow raised.

Zuko hunches his shoulders. Rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She looks up. Zuko followed her gaze. A strip of starry sky is visible, hemmed in with night blacked buildings. “The day the-” she stops, flickering narrowed eyes over the skyline. “The day my town was attacked, it rained. I’d run into the trees with my brother when everything started, but after a few hours of rain we went back to our house. It was still standing, and the fire was out, so we went in to find our parents. They were dead. The house collapsed on us.”

Zuko clenches his fists.

“My brother died quickly. I couldn’t get out. I sat there with them in the dark for… I don’t know how long. Until Jet came along and dug me out.”

Zuko’s chest is tight. This feeling isn’t one he’s missed. “Why… why would you tell me that?”

“I’m one of the ones that can talk about it,” Smellerbee replies. “Jet will tell you it happened, but he won’t say how. I didn’t know Longshot’s story until weeks ago, and we’ve been friends for _years_.” She twists towards him, looking at Zuko full on. Her full attention is hard to deal with. “If you can’t answer, just don’t. We’ll understand. But some people need to talk about it. And we’ll listen too. Okay?”

Zuko’s still working his way through that information and deciding how he feels about it when Smellerbee reaches for him, catching one of his fisted hands in both of hers. He looks up, startled, to find her watching him with troubled eyes.

“Shi, do you remember when we were in the desert? I guessed something about you. About… who your father might be.”

It takes a moment for Zuko to remember exactly what she’s talking about. He tenses up, every nerve on end, every thought a scream.

Smellerbee squeezes his hand between hers. “Was that why you left? Because of what I said?”

The disaster inside him dies down eventually. Smellerbee just waits, holding on, as his muscles slowly relax and his thoughts lessen to an uneasy buzz.

“No,” Zuko answers. “Or… yes, kind of, but not that on its own. I- Jet didn’t say?”

Smellerbee shakes her head. “Whatever you talked about Jet didn’t tell us about it. I thought it was about the… birth thing, but Jet was surprised when I brought it up.”

Zuko yanks his hand away. “You _told Jet_?!”

“He still found you,” Smellerbee says, voice steady and eyes unrepentant. “He still brought you back here, to us. He still wants you here.”

“Jet _hates_ the Fire Nation.”

“But he _doesn’t _hate you!”

The words hang, loud in the night, stinging the air.

Smellerbee sighs, and looks down for the first time, twisting her fingers into each other. “Jet… things went… bad with Jet. A while back. I can barely explain, barely understand how things got… got _so _messed up. But. He’s been trying to get better. To be better. For _us_. And I think he’d try for you too. I think he already _is_. And maybe you’re what he needs, so the next time… the next time things won’t seem so black and white to him.”

“I’m the _enemy_.” Zuko snaps. “You- you have to realize that.”

“You aren’t,” Someone says. It isn’t Smellerbee.

Zuko turns his head slowly. It feels like he’s watching someone else move, but then he’s looking at Jet leaning against the doorway behind him and everything feels too real, all at once.

Jet doesn’t have a smile for him. He seems thin in the night, without his armor. “You weren’t there when I woke up,” he says, motioning behind him. “I… didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I can… leave. If that’s easier.”

“Tell Shi we still want him here,” Smellerbee orders.

Jet smiles at her, a quick lopsided thing, and then meets Zuko’s eyes. “We still want you,” he says, strong and sure.

“You shouldn’t.”

Jet frowns. “Can I sit?”

Zuko shrugs, looks away. He listens to Jet step forward and settle himself on Zuko’s other side. Smellerbee’s hand inches out, careful.

Zuko scowls and takes her hand in his before she can take his in hers.

“It doesn’t feel wrong,” Jet says, so quiet that if a breeze were to pick up it would steal the words away. “but I did something and… the longer I live with it the more I wonder if that’s what being evil is. Doing something that… doesn’t feel wrong to you.” Jet clears his throat. “I can’t imagine dealing with what you are. But I do understand feeling… infected. By them.”

Zuko’s staring by now, unabashedly. When Jet turns towards him Zuko is struck by the sudden and uneasy feeling that he’s seen something he wasn’t supposed to.

Jet looks… young.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says. His eyes dart to Smellerbee for a moment, then back to Zuko. “Never on purpose. That’s the offer on the table, if you want it. That’s a promise I’m willing to make.”

Zuko swallows, his mouth dry. “You don’t know who you’re talking to.”

“I know enough.”

It’s too much.

Zuko lets go of Smellerbee, stands, and marches back into the building. He means to go back to the room but instead he finds himself leaning against a patch of bare wall, panting.

Air alludes him until a sudden uptick of heat under his skin startles him into a well-known breath control exercise.

This is it, Zuko thinks with burning clarity. In every eventuality bar his father having a sudden change of heart concerning him, this is the closest Zuko’s ever going to get to true acceptance. He’s a fraud, a lie, but he must be those things to everyone he meets, everywhere he goes. This is the thinnest the lie will ever get, the closest Zuko, in this wretched joke of an existence, will ever get to living honestly.

If Uncle was here, he’d have advice. If Uncle was here, someone would already know who he truly is. Though, maybe not anymore. As much as he wishes it, Zuko isn’t the person who left. He thinks different about things. He feels different about things.

Though, maybe that’s something Uncle would understand, better than anyone. Uncle works with Earth Kingdom spies. Uncle doesn’t agree with the war.

And… Zuko doesn’t either.

But Uncle isn’t here.

The Freedom Fighters are.

Longshot is awake when Zuko enters the room. He doesn’t stand and doesn’t speak as Zuko grabs his pack and Dao. He’d kept them together in a neat pile near the door. When he walks out Longshot quietly follows behind.

He feels sure, walking back towards the outer door. He feels like he’s finally acting. If it’s the right move or the wrong one, at least the choice is his.

Smellerbee and Jet are where he left them, sitting closer and speaking quietly. They look up when he emerges, surprised. Seeing the pack, the Dao, Smellerbee’s face crumbles and Jet’s goes blank.

“I have a condition,” Zuko states. Jet’s brows draw close in confusion, and then he starts to stand, slow and careful. Zuko is reminded of the first time they’d really talked, how Jet had approached him like he was a wounded animal. Zuko squares his shoulders and meet Jet’s eyes, determined. “I’ll stay. I’ll fight for you.” Not _with _them. But _for _them, if he must. “But if you want me gone, or if things get dangerous because of me, you tell me to my face and let me leave on my own terms. If not it’s better if I leave now.”

“I’m not going to want you gone,” Jet says, stepping forward, cautious hope sparking in his eyes.

Zuko shakes his head harshly. “That’s the deal. You don’t try to kill me, and you don’t try to turn me in-”

Jet’s mouth pulls tight. “I would _never-_”

“Don’t make promises you don’t understand.” Zuko cuts in harshly. “I’m serious.”

They stay there, at a stalemate. Zuko can feel Smellerbee and Longshot watching, but neither interrupts. The disbelief in Jet’s face shifts into something sharp and grave. “Alright,” he says. “I promise to tell you.”

“On your honor.”

“On my honor,” Jet repeats.

“Okay,” Zuko nods. “Okay.”

He goes back inside, sliding carefully past Longshot. He enters the room (their room, his room) with new eyes. He leans his Dao against the wall beside Longshot’s bow. He roots through his bag for his meager supply of food and sets it by the bag of rice sitting beside their makeshift kitchen.

Jet walks in, trailed by Longshot and Smellerbee. He stops when he sees the Dao, staring.

Zuko looks down so he doesn’t have to talk about it. “I have a few clothes to clean,” he says to his lap. “I don’t know… where they go.”

“We’ll deal with them tomorrow,” Smellerbee says, stepping around Jet. She crouches in front of Zuko, grinning. “We should try to catch some sleep before the sun comes up. I think it might be easier, now.”

It is.

And it isn't.


End file.
